


the face you wear is not a stranger

by Tedronai



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Post-AMoL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 18:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5466704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tedronai/pseuds/Tedronai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Tam couldn’t be sure but he hoped — Light, did he hope! — that he was right about this. That Rand was alive.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	the face you wear is not a stranger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steel/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide~! I was aiming for more fluffy but you know me Steel, melancholy with a side of fluff seems to be the best I can do. ^^; (Also rofl, my thoughts when I saw my assignment were like... hello I think I just won the Yuletide lottery! :D)

Sometimes Tam al’Thor missed his farm. The manor he occupied as the Lord Steward of the Two Rivers was not too bad as far as manors went, it was positively cosy compared to most he had seen, but it was still awfully big for one man. Well, and the serving staff, but they weren’t there to keep him company. Perrin might have struggled with the concept of having servants, at least in the beginning, but Tam could see the necessity — if not practical necessity, at least symbolic. Especially now after the war, after the losses and the tragedy, after the sheer relief of finding themselves still alive at the end of it all had faded, people needed figures to look to for reassurance. The Two Rivers — and Emond’s Field — would rise again; the fallen would not be forgotten but life would go on.

He’d never sought to become such a figure, but it wasn’t as though he had better things to do with his remaining years.

Well, that might change once Elayne’s babies were old enough to visit, and once Aviendha’s were born. When that time came, he could always delegate those of his duties that did not require his personal attention. He knew where his priorities lay, and few things in the world would surpass his grandchildren in that regard.

_Grandchildren._ The thought brought a smile to his weathered face. He’d always expected to have some eventually, until Rand and the others had left with Moiraine Sedai that night two years before the Last Battle, almost three years ago by now. After that… he’d not had much time to think about it. Worrying about something like nonexistent grandchildren had seemed rather trivial balanced against the fate of the world itself. And then Rand…

Rand had been the Dragon Reborn. By the time that hawk-nosed man calling himself Mazrim Taim had brought the news to the Two Rivers, it had not been as much of a surprise to Tam as he might have liked to think. No… on some level, he must have suspected, ever since Perrin had returned, oddly reticent on the subject. Hell, if he was honest with himself, the suspicion had been planted that fateful Winternight, he had just not wanted to acknowledge it. What father would? What parent would have wanted to hear that their child was fated to either save or destroy the world?

But against all odds, Rand had found love along the way. Elayne, Aviendha and Min, despite all their differences in background and character, were all wonderful young women, and Tam was _so proud_ to call them family. And as for Rand himself… the world thought him dead, and most of the world was more than fine with it. Saviour though the Dragon Reborn might be, alive he would have been a political nightmare.

Whether he actually was dead was another thing entirely. Nobody had told Tam outright, but he was not so bad at reading people as to miss the signs. Min, Aviendha, Elayne, even Nynaeve sometimes seemed on the verge of saying something, a confession, a reassurance, but then they never did. They were keeping a secret, and one which wasn’t theirs to reveal. Tam couldn’t be sure but he hoped — Light, did he hope! — that he was right about this. That Rand was alive.

 

It was late afternoon, turning into evening, when the visitor arrived. He gave a false name to the servant who admitted him, showed an official-looking letter with Queen Elayne’s seal and caused no question; the correspondence between Emond’s Field and the capital was quite active and ‘Lord Tam’ usually spoke to the messengers in person. The young man bearing the letter this time wasn’t one of Elayne’s usual messengers, but that was hardly worth notice, either.

What was worth notice, however, was his quiet, dignified demeanour and his melancholy smile, and although he looked all wrong there was no doubt in Tam’s mind. This young man, who seemingly had only his height in common with Rand, _was_ his son whom the world thought dead. His hair was black and his eyes a deeper blue than Rand’s had ever been, his face was different and both his hands were intact, but there was no doubt.

“Lord Tam,” the young man said, bowing. “I bear a letter from the Queen Elayne—” And that was as far as he got before Tam strode over and embraced him. For a second there was stunned silence. Then Rand returned the embrace. “Hello, father.”

“I knew you were alive,” Tam said. Yet despite his brave words he felt tears stinging in his eyes.

Rand chuckled. “Which of them told you?”

“They didn’t need to,” Tam replied. Then he withdrew to an arm’s length, hands on Rand’s shoulders, and laughed even as he blinked back tears. “I knew. They did their best to not let on but I knew.”

“I’m sorry,” Rand said, the words coming in a rush. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come back sooner. I’m sorry I had to let everyone believe I was dead. It couldn’t be helped, but I am so sorry—”

Tam shook his head. “What matters is that you’re here now, alive.” And that was true. There were a hundred questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t. Rand would tell when he was ready — or he wouldn’t, and that was fine. There were things surely nobody could understand — not least how exactly it was all possible — and he had not the right to demand answers. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

For a moment it seemed like Rand might argue, but then he smiled, again that small, melancholy smile that seemed at home on his new face but wasn’t characteristic to the boy Tam had known. “I thought you’d say that.”

“Then you’d better listen to me, son,” Tam said and went right on before Rand could protest. “Are you hungry? Even if you aren’t, you’ll stay for supper at least?”

Rand looked surprised, but then he nodded, and it seemed that there was something like relief in his eyes. Of course; he must have thought that Tam would expect him to stay now that he was here. Tam smiled. Though he felt sad at the thought that Rand, returned from not quite death, might only be staying for the evening before vanishing again, to be seen again Light alone knew when… He understood. Well, as much as anyone could understand, and he most certainly didn’t blame him for leaving.

“You stay as long as you like, and come again when you can,” he said, clasping Rand’s shoulder gently. “That’s all I ask.”

“Thank you, father.”

 

The supper was a quiet affair but not awkwardly so; the silence was comfortable, if at times a bit on the melancholy side. At the end of it, the father and son withdrew to the sitting room with a glass of brandy. Tam remarked at the strangeness of having a ‘sitting room’ and both laughed; in a way the scene mirrored one at the Field of Merrilor right before they had marched to war.

After some time, Rand spoke in a hesitant manner. “Does it not bother you, seeing me like this?”

“No,” Tam replied without hesitation. “I will not lie and say that it is not strange,” he went on, as he knew his answer required some elaboration to be credible, true as it was. “It is. And it may take some time before I stop expecting to see the old you when I turn around. But I am not that easily bothered. You are you, and that’s all that truly matters.”  
Rand looked away. “Sometimes I’m not so sure I am,” he said. He looked back at Tam as though to gauge his reaction, but Tam simply waited for him to continue. “I still have my memories of Lews Therin’s life,” he went on. “A-and this body has strange muscle memory — I think the original owner was left-handed, you have no idea how difficult that makes tying shoelaces sometimes, and—”

Tam did not mean to laugh; anything but that, although Rand didn’t seem offended, merely bemused. Yet… the young man sitting before him was suddenly more _Rand_ than he had been all evening, even as he professed his doubts as to whether he was still Rand. “Lad, only you can define who you are,” he said at length, “but if you want my opinion, I’d say you don’t need to worry too much about it.”

The sardonic smile — again, almost eerily fitting on his new face — melted into a grin that was pure Rand. “I thought you’d say that, too.”

“Believe it,” Tam said, trying to put all of his confidence into the two words.

“I promise to try,” Rand replied, and that was good enough. Rand would find his peace his own way, he always had, although if there was anything Tam could do to help, Light knew he would. “I think I’ll stay the night. I trust you have no objections?”

Tam shook his head. “None whatsoever.”


End file.
